Tea at a Great House
by JamesLuver
Summary: There is so much love in the Bates household.


A/N: Based loosely on the following prompt from OTP Prompts: _Imagine your OTP have a kid. Person A goes grocery shopping leaving B to watch their kid. When A comes home, they see B having a tea party with their child._

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

 _Tea at a Great House_

Early mornings had always been Anna's enemy, but recently she was beginning to despise them even more. Which was odd, really, since she no longer had to keep to the strict regime of Downton, instead sometimes able to sleep in until seven thirty—a luxury that at one time she'd never thought possible.

Still, when John kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, she groaned and tried to pull away from him. He chuckled hoarsely, kissing her neck again.

"That bad, is it?" he said.

"I'm tired," she complained. "Don't want to get up."

"So stay in bed. I can handle the hotel on my own. I've got Esther to help with breakfast. Only the Cooks are checking out this morning, and I can see them off myself. Try and get a little more sleep before Jack and Rose wake, if you can."

"You're a darling," she murmured, moving to kiss him. He grinned.

"I have to take the blame for you having a late night, so I've got to make it up to you somehow."

"I could never complain about a late night like that," she said.

"Glad to hear it. I have no complaints either." With a final kiss, John pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair. Anna admired the curve of his back. She missed seeing the muscles in his shoulders flex when he moved, but now that their son or daughter could disturb them at any time, it simply wasn't practical. A lamentable fact, really. Anna had loved sleeping naked beside her husband. It had meant everything to her, its significance resonating in her very soul, the intimacy of true husband and wife, skin to skin, nothing ever coming between them. Though she supposed they had given it up for the best possible reason. Their children were their pride and joy.

She watched him as he moved barefoot around the bedroom, collecting his supplies for a trip to the bathroom for his usual morning routine.

"Try and get some sleep," he told her again at the bedroom door. "I'll be quiet."

"What would I do without you?" she sighed.

He shook his head, a small smile tugging his lips as he left the room. Anna rolled over onto her side, sighing as she burrowed her head into her pillow, squeezing her eyes closed.

Soon, she was dozing.

* * *

She only managed to snooze until eight, when the cries of her little girl shattered the peace. Still bone-tired but at peace with her little world, she fumbled with the new robe that John had purchased for her because her other was looking decidedly threadbare, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and shuffled from the room.

"Coming, darling," she called across the tiny landing, pushing open the door to their daughter's bedroom.

The crying stopped immediately as Rose took in the sight of her mother.

"Mummy!" she squealed, scrambling to the end of the bed. Anna reached out and lifted her into her arms.

"What's the matter, my little darling?" she cooed, wiping away the sticky tears with the pad of her thumb. Rose sniffed.

"Bad dream," she said. "A monster chased me."

Anna clucked sympathetically. "Well, nothing bad is going to happen now, I promise. Look, it's daylight, and I'm right here with you. You know I'd never let anything bad happen to you. Now, why don't we go downstairs and have some jam on toast?"

Rose sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. The prospect of her favourite sweet treat seemed to have abated her fright just slightly. "Where's Daddy?"

"Daddy has had to go to work. He said I had to give you a big kiss from him when you woke up, though." Anna lifted her closer and pressed loud kisses to her daughter's chubby cheeks while she kicked and squealed with delight. When she was done she held her close to her hip and brushed errant brown curls from her face. "Don't worry, we'll go and see him when we're dressed. You and Jack can sit with him in the office and colour while I help sort out the guest bedrooms. You'll like that, won't you?"

Rose nodded eagerly; like her brother, she was a daddy's girl through and through. John couldn't go anywhere without her following him like his shadow. Whenever he had a spare five minutes she would clamber into his lap or demand that he play with her, and he would give in to her demands within a minute. Anna dreaded to think what she would be like when she was older, with John so wrapped around her little finger. She would never take Anna's _no_ as the final answer. Jack was already finding this out for himself.

Even so, it warmed her heart to see how close John and Rose were. Many fathers were disinterested in their families, some even more so when their children turned out to be girls and not boys. And, well, she had her own nightmare experience with her stepfather. Their firstborn had been a healthy son, and John had been simply bursting with pride that had nothing to do with the sex and everything to do with how happy he was that their most coveted dream had finally come true. Jack and John were close; Jack, in his hero-worshipping, was taking on many of his father's characteristics, transforming into quite the little man. Rose had taken after him, idolising her daddy in every way possible. Not all fathers treasured that bond with their daughters as they did with their sons, but John was one of the exceptions to that rule; he simply lit up whenever she was near him, and Anna knew that he would rip his heart out for her if it would do her some good. Her and Jack both.

Seeing John interact with both of their children made her fall a little bit more in love with him every day. On those long, dark nights before Jack's birth, when they had taken it in turns to reassure each other that everything would be all right, he'd spent so much time worrying that he would be a failure, that he wouldn't be good enough to support them, that somehow he'd make mistakes and mess his child up properly. Anna knew that it was just his insecurities about the birth manifesting themselves, as she'd had her own fears about carrying to term, but she hadn't worried about his abilities for even a second. There had been no doubt in her mind that John Bates would be the best of fathers, because he was the best of men. She had never seen a more perfect sight in her entire life than when he had cradled their baby for the very first time, Jack swamped in his father's massive arms, the sheer look of adoration on his face as he'd looked down on the apple of his eye for the very first time completely taking her breath away.

"Mummy?"

Speak of the devil. Jack had materialised in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes with little fists. His hair was stuck up every which way, exactly how his father's did first thing in the morning. He looked so beautiful, standing there in his little slippers and the pyjamas that were almost too small for him—he was shooting up, destined to be as tall as the other Bates men. It was hard to believe just how quickly the time was passing, how quickly the children were growing. Jack was five now, and was due to start school very soon. He was an intelligent boy, and had picked up his letters and numbers fast, and it frightened Anna to some degree to think that once he started learning and immersing himself in the world, he would not need her in quite the same way as he always had done in the past.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself away from those needling thoughts. "There you are, my dearest darling. Did you sleep well?"

Jack nodded, venturing further into the room, wrinkling his nose a little at the way that Rose chanted, "Jacky! Jacky!" over and over and tried to wriggle out of Anna's arms. He had declared himself too old for the affections of a baby girl, but Anna knew that that particular assertion wouldn't last long, not least because she was only a year younger than he was. Jack doted on his younger sibling. In any case, Rosemary, though not named directly after anyone, was as stubborn as both Lady Rose and Lady Mary, and wouldn't give his announcement the blindest bit of notice.

"Where's Daddy?" he asked, standing just outside Rose's reach.

"I was just telling Rose, he's gone to the hotel already."

His little face fell. "Oh."

"Don't worry, we'll be seeing him later on. We'll be going over to the hotel when we've had breakfast, and you can help Daddy with his rounds. He always says that you're a very big help."

Jack brightened at that, puffing out his little chest. Anna suppressed a laugh. That wasn't quite John's wording —in fact, she suspected that Jack was more a hindrance than a help as he darted about underfoot with all of the enthusiasm of a hundred workers—but John would never say so, acting as if their son was already a business partner in the whole enterprise. His loyalty was amusing and endearing in equal measures. And now that Rose was determined to be involved in everything that Jack was…well, it would only be double the trouble.

They'd never have it any other way.

"How about that breakfast now, hmm?" she asked, looking between her two rascals. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"Me too," Jack announced. He was eating with an almost alarming voracity at the moment. He certainly had the healthy appetite of a growing boy. Anna could barely keep up with him. Nor could she deny him anything. Or Rose, for that matter. She bounced her daughter on her hip, smiling at her happy giggle.

"Perfect," she said. "Do you want to be my little helpers?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, after Anna had helped Rose into her robes and slippers and had straightened Jack's on his sturdy frame, the three of them made their way into the kitchen. Anna knew that the best way of keeping them out of trouble was getting them to help so that they would be distracted from any possible mischiefs, and she deployed that tactic now, asking Jack to set the table while she got Rose to fetch the bread. She did not trust Rose with any bigger tasks just yet, but her daughter seemed quite content with her mission, seeing it as a very grown up responsibility, as children were wont to do when their parents asked them to do something. While they were doing that, Anna reached up into the cupboard to select the jar of sweet condiment she had promised them, keeping one eye on their activities while she popped the lid off. On thinking about it, she decided that today dictated something a bit more special than simple jam on toast. Eggs were always a good staple, and Jack loved to dip his soldiers into the yolk, inventing stories of heroism inspired by his own daddy's acts of bravery. John always tended to get so flustered when he heard them, but Anna enjoyed them. And she silently agreed. John _was_ a hero. He had rescued Lord Grantham, and he had rescued her, setting them on the course to where they were today. Just last week they had celebrated their fourth year in business, and it was growing more successful by the day.

They sat down to their feast, and Jack talked nineteen to the dozen about what he wanted to do today, not limited to visiting the park, playing with his soldiers, playing with his ball, enjoying story time, building a castle, taking a trip to the hotel to say hello to Daddy and to visit with old Mrs. Whitmore, who was sure to give him all manner of wonderful treats, and speaking of treats, it would be nice to visit the sweet shop…

"And how many hours are in this day?" Anna teased as she watched him wolf down his breakfast.

Jack looked at her as if she was simple. "Twenty-four, Mummy. You told me that."

"I did, didn't I?" she mused, her smile widening. "Silly Mummy. What about you, Rose? Have you got any special plans for how you want to spend the day?"

"Play with my dollies," she said simply. "They are going to have a tea party."

"Well, that sounds simply marvellous. Who's invited?"

"Mr. Carrots and Lucy and Growly Bear," she said. "And maybe Princess, but she's shy so maybe not. I will make the tea and pour the drinks like a…like a good…"

"Hostess," Anna finished. "Just like the great ladies of the big houses." Those that were left, anyway. The post-war world had not been kind to them, and the American economic crash had all but sunk them. Lady Mary was clinging onto Downton by the skin of her teeth, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could carry it on, or if it was even worth trying to salvage anything at this point. Perhaps it would be better to sell and cut those losses, though Anna knew how painfully that would cut all of the Crawleys. And Old Lady Grantham certainly wouldn't want to see it go in her lifetime. She was still as robust as ever, nearly ninety as she was. She would probably outlive everyone. It wouldn't surprise Anna to discover that she was immortal.

"Hostess," Rose repeated, as if testing the word. "Yes. Can I have tea for it, Mummy?"

Anna had horrible visions of her spilling it all over herself and leaving nasty burns on her skin. "No."

She pouted. "But I don't want water! It's _boring_! And Mr. Carrots and Lucy and Growly Bear don't like it!"

"They've never complained before."

"Because…because they were being polite, like you tell us we have to be! But they don't like it! They want real tea like at a real tea party!"

"And I've already given you my answer. No. How about we compromise?"

"Comp…comp…what's that?"

"It's a negotiation term. Humans try and do it all the time. Like when Jack asks to say up for an extra half an hour, and we say he can have five minutes. That's a compromise. It's getting a little of what you want while not getting exactly what you want."

"I don't understand."

"Well…" Anna leaned across, pushing dark ringlets out of her daughter's solemn face. She was beautiful, the very image of her father. "You want tea at your tea party. I said no. But what would you say if I offered you juice? That's not as dangerous as hot tea, but it's not as boring as water. Do you see?"

"Yes," she said, a little uncertainly, but warming enthusiastically to the idea of juice, something that they didn't have very often. "Can I have apple juice? And orange too?"

Anna did a quick calculation in her head. They could spare a few oranges, but the apple juice would be trickier. "How about you have orange juice, and I bake some extra special biscuits especially for this grand tea party? Then you really will be the best host in the world."

Rose's eyes lit up at the prospect of sweet treats.

"Yes," she said happily.

"Wonderful. Now, let's get these things cleaned up. Daddy will be waiting for us. He likes my presence at breakfast if I can manage it." In the days when Jack had been a baby, she had been there every day to flit about the dining room, ensuring that everyone had whatever they needed. When she'd had two growing children to sort out, it had been more difficult to get in for that time every day, so she did what she could now. John could handle it, but she knew it wasn't entirely his comfort zone, so she hooked him out of the duty when she could.

"Is Mrs. Millard still here?" Jack asked as he hopped out of his seat.

Surprised that he knew the name, Anna said, "Yes, darling, she is. Why?"

"Is that why you want to go across to the hotel? So she doesn't look at Daddy like a snake looking at a tasty treat?"

The plate Anna had been carrying to the sink almost slipped out of her fingers. She whirled around quickly, wide-eyed.

"Where on earth did you hear something like that?" she squeaked.

Jack shrugged non-commitally, reaching up on his tiptoes to gather his own empty plate. He was tall for his age, but he couldn't quite reach the counter. Anna took them from him quickly before they met a sad fate on the kitchen floor.

"I heard Daddy say it yesterday," he said, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. "Why would she look at Daddy like a snake, though? Why would she want to eat him? That sounds horrible. And Daddy is much bigger than she is. I don't think she could even if she wanted to."

"No, of course she doesn't want to eat him," said Anna, her ears burning. "It's just an expression." This conversation had taken place in what she and John had assumed was the privacy of their bedroom. Jack knowing about the words they had exchanged indicated that he must have been outside their door at some point. Doing what, God only knew. Which led to the unsavoury thought of how long he had lingered, how much he had heard. That line had been the opening to Anna calling him a silly beggar, and pushing him down onto the mattress to remind him of who really was his keeper...

It really did not bear thinking about. It would be best to stay well clear of that particular subject. Jack was frowning in a manner that suggested he wanted to continue to probe that line of enquiry, so she masterfully turned the conversation in another direction, knowing that distraction with another more exciting subject was the key to keeping that awkward conversation at bay.

"Perhaps you could help me out in the dining room, darling," she said nonchalantly as she began to take care of the pots.

Jack's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Why not? You're a big boy now. You'll be just like a proper waiter, relaying the orders."

Jack nodded eagerly. "I can do that. My memory's really good, Mummy. I can write it down, too, like a proper waiter would!"

Anna doubted they'd be able to make head nor tail of his attempt at scribing an order—while he knew his letters, they were shaky at best, and he could hardly be expected to know how to spell beyond his name and _Mummy_ , _Daddy_ , and _Rosemary_. "Well, how about we test your memory for now?"

"A real waiter writes everything down," Jack pouted.

"And a footman at a great house remembers every order and relays them," she said. "It's nearly the same thing. We can build you up to that level if you want."

Jack considered it with a little frown. When he did that, he looked so much like his father, even with the blond hair and blue eyes. Anna smiled despite herself. He was a handsome boy. She and John made beautiful children together, there was no denying that.

"All right," he agreed. "Are we going now?"

"Yes, just let me finish up here. Why don't you go and clean your teeth while I do? And be a good big brother, and make sure that Rose gives hers a proper scrub. I'll be up in a minute to inspect."

Jack's little chest swelled—he took his role as big brother very seriously indeed, even if he did sometimes complain that Rose was annoying. "Yes, Mummy. Come on, Rose! We're going over to the hotel in a minute!" He grabbed his baby sister by the hand and almost dragged her from the room. Anna had to smile at the bemused look on her daughter's face as she followed loyally. She'd probably follow Jack to the ends of the earth if he told her to, even if the reasons why were beyond her comprehension. She doted on her big brother, worshipped him in almost the same way that she worshipped her daddy.

Anna had never felt so blessed to have such a wonderful little family.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were pushing through the front door to the hotel. The lobby was deserted, but there was a quiet hum coming from the dining room that was just off to the side. Breakfast was already underway. Well, no matter. They could pitch in quite seamlessly. John would be grateful for the extra pairs of hands, and the children often brightened breakfast time, the guests finding the Bates children endearing with their eagerness to pitch in and their enthusiastic politeness. Nothing made Anna glow more than receiving the compliments that poured in about how wonderful her children were. She supposed it was every mother's biggest weakness.

"Daddy! Daddy!" the children yelled in unison now, their pounding feet taking them right into the dining room like a whirlwind. Anna followed at a more demure pace, unable to stop herself from smiling at the sight of the two of them wrapped tight around John's legs, uncaring of who was looking their way and uncaring of what John might have been in the middle of before their appearance. Not that he seemed to care, either. He was grinning broadly, a large hand on each of their heads, tilted slightly in their general direction as he greeted them. He glanced up when she approached, his eyes dancing, as if they were the only two people in the world who shared a secret. She supposed, in a way, they were. The most beautiful secret of all, the knowledge of how their children had been made and brought into the world. They shared a whole conversation with just their eyes, in the space of a few short seconds; later, when they were alone, they would have a proper greeting.

Instead, all Anna did was smile and say, "Where do you want me?"

"I think Mrs. Millard is trying to catch our attention," he said with a knowing glint in his eyes.

"And me, Daddy?" Jack said, tugging insistently on his trouser leg. "I'm big. I can be a waiter."

"Let's give you a trial run, then. See that couple at the table in the corner? That's Mr. and Mrs. Whitely. Go over there and see if they have everything they need. Please try to remember your manners, and if you get stuck at all, come and find me or Mummy. There's no shame in asking for help, Jack, remember that. No one would ever get anywhere if they didn't ask for help sometimes, all right?"

Jack nodded, and John ruffled his hair.

"Good lad," he said. "Now, off you go."

Jack didn't need telling twice, scampering off. Rose folded her arms.

"Me too, me too!" she demanded.

John chuckled, placing his large hand atop her head; his whole palm almost eclipsed her, she was so small. "You can come with me, sweetheart. I need a sweet face like yours beside me so the guests don't run a mile when I approach."

This seemed to pacify her for now. Anna doubted it would for much longer—like her brother, Rose loved to be in the thick of the action—but for the time being she was content to skip along beside her hero, doing whatever she could to help him. With a shake of her head and a slight smile, she turned back to her own customer.

Mrs. Millard looked very disappointed to see her approaching instead of John.

"Oh," she said. "I thought Mr. Bates was taking care of breakfast this morning."

"I like to give him a hand where I can, Mrs. Millard," she said.

"You're too good to him, you know. Sometimes a man needs to stand on his own two feet."

So that he could fall directly into her arms when he stumbled, no doubt, Anna thought, barely suppressing the urge to wrinkle her nose.

"I think he's more than happy with how things are right now, Mrs. Millard," she said pleasantly, hoping the implicit warning was clear. Still, there was no need to be rude. She knew the kind of man that John was, and Mrs. Millard would be leaving for home in a couple of days, her poor husband by her side. She rather pitied him. Who knew how often he was forgotten as she turned her attention to other men? "Now, what can I get you?"

Breakfast went very smoothly. They had six parties staying with them currently, and all were present in the dining room. With Esther's help, they gathered the orders and took them from Mrs. Whitmore. It was like the running of a well oil clock, or a dance. They moved in synch, dodging each other gracefully, ensuring that no guest was left feeling that they hadn't had a good breakfast. They chatted and engaged, smoothing over any problems with practiced ease. Esther was a well-mannered and sweet-tempered girl, who had been a godsend to them, and most times Jack and Rose were guaranteed to bring smiles to the faces of even the most cantankerous guests.

Anna kept a well-trained eye on their children as she worked. Jack seemed to be very passionate about his task, and there hadn't been any major hiccups, just one spilled jug of milk which the young couple it had been intended for had laughed off; the young woman was round with child, and they had exchanged wistful glances, no doubt anticipating the imminent arrival of their own bundle of joy and all the havoc that that would bring with it. Rose had almost clung to her daddy's tailcoats, skipping about him and delighting when he allowed her to ask all the questions under his exacting gaze. He really was the most perfect of men.

At long last, the rush was over, and one by one, the guests departed to enjoy their day. Esther sprang into work at once, clearing the tables. John usually disappeared into the office at this point to take care of any business handed over to them by their night manager while Anna stayed behind to help the young woman. Today, he paused a moment.

"Do you want me to take the children?" he said.

Jack looked up at once. "No, I don't wanna! I want to help clear the tables and take the things back down to the kitchen! That's what a real footman would do!"

John arched an eyebrow in silent question. Anna shrugged.

"He can do that if he wants," she said. "How about you take Rose?"

Their daughter nodded happily. It would probably be difficult to prise her away from her father today. Anna doubted that John would mind, if his grin now was anything to go by.

"All right," he agreed. "Come on, my darling. I've got just the thing you can do for me."

She went up into his arms happily. He braced himself against his cane, holding her tight in his strong left arm. She wound her arms around his neck, snuggling against him. She really was the spitting image of him, everyone could see that when they were together. Anna was glad that they'd been lucky enough to have another child after Jack; they'd always dreamed of at least three or four, but she was thankful that they'd ended up with one of each to complete their little family.

"I'll see you soon," John said.

Anna nodded. With a quick squeeze to his right bicep and a hand trailed down Rose's back, she let them disappear out of the room.

* * *

The morning passed smoothly. From the kitchen Anna headed up to the vacated rooms to give them a proper going over with Esther; John took Jack off her hands then so she could have a free run of it without having to keep an eye on her boisterous son at the same time. Esther was quick and efficient. She reminded Anna of Gwen, back in the old days at Downton. They had been a good team, and she worked well with Esther now. The young girl was a pleasant addition to the household with her ready smile and her eagerness to perfect her trade. Anna doubted she would want to stay forever, but she was a wonderful asset for the time being and would be a difficult act to follow. The children would be sad to see her go too. Jack, in particular, had a soft spot for her.

By the time the work was completed, it was lunch time. Anna told Esther to go down to the kitchen and get something to eat, and made her way back towards the office where John had been shut away all morning. When she opened the door, she found him on the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose, a vexed expression on his face. The children were sitting at the other side of the desk, reams of paper and brightly coloured pencil crayons strewn all across the surface.

John raised his hand half-heartedly in greeting as she slipped into the room, and she moved to her children, dropping a kiss onto each of their heads as she peered at their master creations. Decidedly wobbly depictions of their family—John's cane was a giveaway—with their names written above each potato shaped head, squiggly letters that were barely legible. There was an additional brown splodge on Rose's. Anna suspected that that was a cat. Their daughter had been hankering for one ever since hearing that Mrs. Lacey's cat from down the street had had a litter of babies. They were too young to be taken from their mother just yet, but Anna had a feeling that one of them would find their way into the home very soon indeed: she already knew that John was on the verge of giving in. Although, if she was honest with herself, the idea of a cat was not an entirely terrible one. She'd had one at their family home, too, a tiny scrappy little thing with a squeaky little mew and raggedy fur that she'd loved with her whole heart. In her teenaged years, it had come to represent the golden period of her life, a time when she'd been certain that nothing could rock the safety and shelter of her life. She'd sobbed and sobbed when her mother had been forced to get rid of it, unable to carry unnecessary mouths, as she'd put it, after her dad's sudden, cruel death. From then on, her days had been bleak and grim. It would be nice for the children to have that same sense of a complete home, an animal to help look after and to help teach them the importance of responsibilities.

At last, John put the telephone down, huffing in frustration.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Sighing, John took off his glasses, throwing them down on the desk. They were a relatively new fixture in his life after Anna had caught him squinting one too many times. He was not often a vain man, but he did bemoan that they made him look his age, and people would wonder all over again just what a beautiful young woman like her was doing saddling her life to someone like him. Anna could only roll her eyes at that; he did like a good wallow in self-pity. She'd countered that she thought they made him look very handsome, and had shown him just how much she thought so after the children had been put to bed, and thankfully that had at least settled him down somewhat.

"That was Marcey's," he said. "They can't make it down with their delivery this afternoon. The driver has fallen ill."

"Oh. That really is a bit problematic."

"A _bit_? We needed those things for the dinner celebration tonight. I don't know what we're going to do now. And God knows what Mrs. Whitmore is going to say. She's likely to have a breakdown and declare the world is coming to an end."

Anna frowned. That _was_ a bit of a pickle. They had planned a modest gathering to celebrate their four years as hotel proprietors, inviting guests and locals alike to join them. Now it seemed that their plans were going to be derailed. Unless…

"How about I go and fetch the supplies?" she said. "I can ask Mr. Trent if he can take me in the car."

"That could work…" he said slowly. "But what if Mr. Trent has needs for the car?"

"Then we're no worse off, are we? You don't get anything if you don't ask, and I like to think that we've done enough for our friends and neighbours in our time to warrant a kindness in return. If I go now, I'll be back for the afternoon and there's no harm done."

At this, Rose looked up. "But Mummy, my tea party!"

Damn. She had forgotten about that.

John arched his eyebrow. "What's this?"

"I was having a tea party this afternoon," Rose informed him. "With real juice and everything! Mummy said I could! I was inviting Mr. Carrots and Lucy and Growly Bear! But if Mummy is going then I can't have it! It's not fair!"

"We could do it tomorrow," Anna tried.

But Rose's eyes were watering. "No! Today!"

This was one of those difficult moments in parenting. What was the right thing to do? To fulfil the responsibilities she had to the hotel, as their livelihood, or to disappoint her darling daughter, that family she had longed for for so long? In her heart, she knew what the right thing to do was. There would be plenty of other opportunities to oversee a tea party for Rose. There would not be another opportunity to right this potential fiasco.

"I've got an idea."

She looked to John when he spoke. "Hmm? What's that?"

"How about I take over Rose's tea party? It'd have to be in here rather than at the cottage so I could carry on working, but I'm sure we could manage it between us. I know I don't make as pretty a maid as Mummy does, but I think we could muddle by. What do you say, eh?"

Rose's eyes lit up. "Really? You'd help me host my tea party instead of Mummy?"

"Of course I would, my darling. Your old dad would do absolutely anything for you. I think I've picked up some hints and tips over the years I've been serving Mummy her tea."

"Cheeky beggar," Anna said, but she couldn't help smiling. It was the perfect solution. This way, no one was disappointed. "Come on then, Rose, we'd better go back to the cottage and pick up the things you need so you can have your tea party. I can't make you your biscuits, but we do have a fresh cake that I'm sure you can put to good use. Jack, you'll help us carry everything, won't you?"

Rose leapt to her feet at once, beaming. Jack followed, but there was a frown on his face.

"I will help you to carry Rose's things, Mummy," he said, "but can I go with you instead of staying here with Daddy? A tea party sounds like a girl's game, and I don't want to play no girly game. I can help you carry the things that you need to pick up with Mr. Trent. I'm a big boy now, and I can manage."

Anna smiled, reaching out to ruffle his thick blond locks. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea. I'd be very glad of the company. Right, let's go."

The children bounded out of the door, and John stood to walk her to the threshold. Before she could walk away, his arms shot out, tugging her back slightly, out of sight of anyone who might walk through the main lobby at that moment.

"I agree, Jack's idea is a splendid one," he murmured, pressing a ring of kisses to her neck.

She tried to squirm away from him, her hands betraying her by threading through his thick, greying hair. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Jack's the perfect chaperone. Mr. Trent can't sweep you off your feet when your young son is around."

"Silly beggar," she said affectionately. "As if anyone else could ever sweep me off my feet."

"Most men could. They have two working legs, after all."

She snorted, tugging his head up so she could cover his mouth with her own. He was maddening sometimes. The only way to stop him was to kiss him senseless. Privately, she thought that that was his goal, to see how many times she would kiss him just to silence him. Even if it was, she couldn't be too cross with him, not when it was mutually enjoyable. John's hands drifted scandalously lower, to smooth from her hips over her rear and back again.

"Ewwww! Mummy, Daddy, stop!"

They broke apart to find Jack peering around the door, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"You can't kiss each other like that!" he protested.

"Why not?" said John, smoothing his hair back into place. Anna smirked at the way it had become quite dishevelled.

"Because that's how _babies_ are made!" said Jack self-importantly. "Henry Southgate told me. He's two years older and knows everything. So you're not allowed to kiss because I don't want another baby crying everywhere like Mrs. Fillis' does!"

Regretfully, their days of babies were behind them. Even so, Anna couldn't stop her snort of laughter at how solemn their young son looked, as if it was quite irresponsible of them not to take his opinion into consideration.

"I think we're safe," she reassured him. "Look, I'm coming. Just wait one more minute."

Jack eyed them suspiciously, as if he didn't trust that they wouldn't pounce on one another's mouths again the minute his back was turned, but eventually he slipped away. As soon as he was gone, John pulled her back to him.

"Maybe I should check again, just to make sure we really are safe," he muttered, but Anna pushed gently against his chest.

"Not now, Mr. Bates," she murmured, her voice hitching with her amusement. "If Jack does come back I think he'll have a fit. Let me get on. You can kiss me all you want later after we've put the children into bed."

"You can count on it," he said feverishly, and after one more quick kiss that she was unable to resist bestowing upon him, she ducked out of his arms. There would be plenty of time for playing later. Right now, she still had more work to do.

* * *

After waving goodbye to John and Rose, Anna and Jack set off down the street in the direction of Mr. Trent's house. Jack chatted happily about all of the things that he was going to help with while they were out on this errand. He sounded quite the heavyweight champion with the things he thought himself capable of lifting. Anna tried not to let him see her amused smile. She didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"A'course I'll tek yer, Missus Bates!" said Mr. Trent when Anna had put forward her request. "Got nothin' spoilin'."

They followed him outside to the motor, and she helped Jack up into the back seat before following him in. He wriggled across until his nose was practically pressed up against the glass window. He had only been in a car a handful of times, and the novelty of it was yet to wear off. She had to smile at how endearing his innocent excitement was.

"So, where's that lovely daughter o'yers?" said Mr. Trent as he pulled onto the street.

"She's staying at the hotel," said Anna. "She didn't want to come."

"She wanted to play tea parties," Jack piped up.

"Aye, well, it's always best to let the little ladies have their girls' games. Ain't that right, Missus Bates? They need 'em to teach 'em how to play house."

Anna suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Mr. Trent was a nice man, but he was like Mr. Carson in his way of thinking that a woman belonged in the kitchen; at Downton, she had heard muttered conversations between Mrs. Patmore and Mrs. Hughes about how the butler had frustrated the latter with his exacting expectations when it came to having his meals cooked for him by his wife. Thank God John had never been that way. He was always so willing to pitch in wherever he could, whether it was with a task that was deemed more feminine or not. It was one of the things that made him one of a kind.

As if reading her mind, Jack said, "I reckon Daddy will be playing with her, even though he said he had work to do."

Through the mirror, Anna could see Mr. Trent's eyebrows rising so high that they disappeared into his hairline. "Really?" Clearly the idea was more than a little absurd to him.

"Really," said Jack, oblivious. "Daddy _likes_ playing with Rose's dollies. I know because he's always smiling when he does."

Mr. Trent looked horrified. Anna had to supress the very great urge to burst into peals of laughter. No doubt the other man was imagining John at this very moment prancing round the hotel, perhaps in one of her dresses, like the Shakespearian actors who had dressed as women to perform on stage. The mental image of John trying to force himself into one of her best dresses only made the giggles bubble up into her throat. She saw his gaze flicker up to her, as if he was trying to gauge whether the both of them were completely mad; he quickly looked away again when he realised that she'd clocked him. Well, perhaps it would put him off the idea of her if he thought they had a mad family. John would be pleased with that if nothing else. Her lips trembled with the effort of containing her mirth.

No more words were spoken on the short drive across town. Jack was content to peer out the window at the various sights of the seaside. When they arrived at their destination, Mr. Trent muttered that he would give them a hand, but he kept a good distance away, as if he was afraid that her husband's penchant for playing dollies with his daughter was somehow contagious. They loaded the goods into the car and Mr. Trent said that he'd wait there while they settled the bill. The young man who worked in the shop smiled and said he would go and fetch their account.

Jack roamed the front of the shop restlessly while they waited. Anna eyed him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Jack shook his head, but there was something about the way that his bottom lip protruded—something that John always said took his breath away because it reminded him so much of her—that made her think that her son wasn't being entirely honest with her. It wouldn't take him long to tell her. It never did.

Sure enough, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the flagstones, Jack said, "Mr. Trent…he thinks Daddy is strange, doesn't he?" Her little son, young as he was, was always so in tune with his surroundings.

"He probably thinks Daddy is a bit soft," she said carefully. "You've told me yourself, not all of your friends' daddies pay attention to them the way that your daddy pays attention to you. Well, they were probably raised to think that that was the way men should behave, and showing affection like that was something that made them seem weak."

"So Daddy is weak?" asked Jack in a small voice.

"No, love. No. Daddy is _strong_ because he doesn't believe in those things. Why shouldn't a man shower his children in affection if he loves them? Would you like it if Daddy decided not to hug you or kiss you or play with you because everyone else told him that he shouldn't?"

"No," Jack said. For all of his blustering about not wanting to play girly games, he was a sensitive boy, his heart so gentle, so soft towards his baby sister. And he loved to snuggle down on his daddy's knee, yearned for his praise and attention, gazed up at him with worship in his eyes.

"Well, Daddy doesn't care what anyone else thinks of him."

It wasn't entirely true; at Downton, he had been something like a puppy himself. He had needed to know that he was well-respected, if only for the sake of his feelings of self-worth. Mr. Carson and his lordship's good opinions had meant so much to him, especially after the poor start he'd had. Anna knew how he put himself down and berated himself if he didn't match up to his own exacting standards.

Here in Scarborough, it was easier not to care. They did not live with the people they shared their lives with as closely as they had at Downton, and John in particular was more cordial than friendly with their neighbours, and that distance had helped him to at least overcome some of the anxieties he'd had about not being good enough.

All of their trials and hardships had also made him determined to love their children as fiercely as he could, giving them the world in the best capacity he was able to. He could not run along the beach with them the same way that other men could, but he loved them in different ways, by reading to them at night, by creating imaginary games for them to join in with, by sitting with them across his knees, dozing in front of the fire. There were fathers who did the cursory. There was John, who tried so hard to make every moment count. Anna knew which one she preferred. To hell with what anyone else said.

"Why _does_ Daddy play girly games, though?" said Jack. "I wouldn't wanna."

"Maybe not now you don't," Anna replied, ruffling his hair. "But one day maybe you'll fall in love and settle down with babies of your own like Daddy and I have. Maybe you'll have a baby girl like our Rose. And you'll want her to feel love and cherished too, just like you would any son. If she came to you and asked you to play with her like Rose wants Daddy to play with her, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You are your father's son, John Daniel Bates."

Jack scrunched his nose. "I know he's my daddy, Mummy! Who else would it be?"

Anna snorted, her heart swelling. She pulled him closer and bent down so she could bury her head against him.

"Who indeed," she murmured.

* * *

The return journey was made in largely the same silence. Mr. Trent and Anna made small talk as they crossed town, but it was a relief to get out of the car. He did offer to help her carry the parcels down the road to the hotel, since there were so many of them, and she was grateful for that, but they kept a suitable distance. They were met at the door by Esther. Mr. Trent tipped his hat and bid them goodbye.

"Can you help me get these down to the kitchen, Esther?" Anna asked.

"Of course, Mrs. Bates. Mrs. Whitmore will be glad to see them. She's nearly been pulling her hair out this last hour, wondering what we were going to do if you never came back with the goods."

"Where would I have gone with them?" Anna giggled. Cooks always seemed to be so flamboyantly over the top.

Esther shrugged. "Don't ask me. Though I've got to admit, I'm rather excited for this myself, Mrs. Bates! I've never had a feast like it before. Mum and Dad do their best, but they aren't made of money."

"Then I hope it lives up to your expectations."

"Oh, I'm sure it will!"

"Well, we won't have anything to serve if we don't get this down to Mrs. Whitmore. Have you seen Mr. Bates?"

"No. He's been in the office all afternoon. Popped out for a minute to see if we were all right, but I said I could manage just fine."

"Right. Well, I'll just go and see how he is. Tell Mrs. Whitmore I'll be along to see if she needs anything else in a minute."

Esther nodded, and Anna left her with a smile, Jack bounding along by her side.

The office door was slightly ajar as they approached, and Anna could hear the sounds of muffled voices from within.

"Quiet as mice," she whispered to Jack. "We don't want to disturb them."

Jack nodded, and crept forward with all the stealth of a master sleuth, peering through the crack. Anna followed suit. The sight before her made her lips stretch in one of the widest grins that she could ever recall smiling.

"Would you like some more milk, Daddy?"

"That would be very nice, thank you, Lady Rosemary."

John held out his cup, and Rose leaned across with the teapot to pour. Her little hands wobbled slightly.

"You do that very neatly," John praised her. "You must have learned how to do that from someone very special indeed."

"My mummy showed me how," said Rose brightly. "She said she used to serve at a table once."

"Did she now? That's very exciting. No wonder you're such a natural."

Rose giggled. "I think Mr. Carrots wants some more cake. Do you?"

"I think I could have another slice. As long as you don't tell Mummy. She keeps telling me that I eat too much cake."

"That's silly, Daddy! No one could ever eat too much cake! I'd eat it for breakfast and lunch and tea and supper if Mummy would let me!"

"Wouldn't that be a wonderful world?"

"Daddy really does love girly games, doesn't he?" said Jack in a stage whisper. He sounded more full of wonder than disgust now.

"Yes," Anna said softly. "It's a thing of beauty, Jack."

And it was. It really was.

John was sitting behind the desk where she'd left him. Contrary to what he had said about needing to work, he didn't seem to have made any progress; he had cleared it completely of any paperwork and books. They were stacked neatly on the floor from what she could gather. Instead, they had been replaced by Rose's stuffed toys, all sitting round at certain points of the desk, drooping over the cups that their little girl had placed in front of them. Cake crumbs littered the top, and Anna could spy splashes of milk from where she had obviously had a mishap, but there was a tranquillity about the room that made her smile. There was nothing she loved more than seeing her children happy and content.

And Rose was certainly that. From this angle, Anna did not have a good view of her daughter's face, but it was evident from her body language. She was sitting up on her knees on her chair, clamouring across the desk to fulfil her role of hostess.

"I think Growly Bear is full," she decided. "I don't think I should give him any more cake in case he is sick."

"Quite right, too," John agreed with a grin. "We'd better not spoil our appetites too much for Mrs. Whitmore's special feast. She'll be personally offended if we don't eat every scrap offered to us." He glanced ruefully at his own misshapen slab of cake. "Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea that I said yes to this now."

"You've got to eat it now, Daddy," she insisted. "It's rude not to eat what's given to you, that's what Mummy always says."

"It's exhausting that she's always right," John chuckled. "Us men don't stand a chance where you women are concerned. You bowl us over every time."

"Why?"

"Because we can't resist a pretty face, of course."

"Am I pretty, Daddy?"

"You're the prettiest girl in the whole world, my darling. You have me wrapped around your little finger."

"Daddy, you're too big to go around my little finger!" Rose held out her tiny hand to demonstrate. Her whole hand was tinier than his palm. He laughed, letting her hold onto his index finger.

"It's a figure of speech, my love. What it means is that I love you, and I would do absolutely anything for you if it meant you were happy."

"Get me a kitty?"

"Perhaps even get you a kitty. We'll have to see what Mummy says about that first."

Rose pouted a little, then sat back, resuming her air of authority. "Finish your milk, Daddy. The servants will need to come in soon to clear away the tea things."

"Is that so? Well, what Lady Rosemary wants, Lady Rosemary gets…"

"I think that's our cue," Anna whispered to Jack. "Shall we go in and say hello?"

Jack nodded, and pushed open the door. John's eyes latched onto them at once, and he greeted them with a wide grin, pushing himself upright. "And here's the rest of the family. The lovely Master Jack, and Lady Anna herself. You get more beautiful every time I see you."

"Charmer," she said, but reached up to kiss him.

"Mummy! Daddy! What did I say about kissing?"

"All right, son," said John. "Now, come here. I've missed you this afternoon."

At those words, Jack's disapproving face expression melted into one of pure delight. He darted round to wrap his arms around John's legs, and John hitched him up into his arms with a rough groan, kissing him soundly.

"Did you help Mummy?" he said.

"I helped carry everything," he told him happily.

"That's my boy. Now, come on, we've got some more work to do. Are you up to helping us out again?"

Both children nodded eagerly, and John put Jack back on the floor.

"Then let's go," he said.

* * *

The evening was a roaring success. People laughed, and sang, and drank, and danced, and ate Mrs. Whitmore's delicious offerings. Anna had learned all about being a good and gracious host from her years of serving the Crawleys, and she put all of her knowledge to good use, flitting about the place and making sure that she spoke to everyone in the room, accepting offers to dance with the eager men who asked for her hand. At one time, she had thought she would never be able to do that again. There was sometimes an initial cruel twist of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, but she always took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was here. She was grounded. She was safe. John was nearby, and he would never let any harm come to her again.

When the children's bedtimes approached, they slipped away amongst well wishes from the revellers, leaving Mr. Hargreaves in charge of managing the winding down of the party. John promised that as soon as the children were settled, he would come back across to help with the tidying process, releasing Esther from another long day.

"Right, get into your pyjamas, you two," said Anna when they walked in through the front door.

"Can we have a bedtime story?" Jack begged.

"Not tonight, little man. It's already getting late, and I still have some things to finish. Tomorrow, I promise. You can choose whatever story you want. And you've not read to me in a few days. I think it would be a good time to pick that up again."

"And me, Daddy?" Rose beseeched.

"Of course you too. We can all take it in turns, how does that sound?"

"It sounds wonderful," said Anna. "But right now, you two little monkeys need to get up those stairs. We'll be with you in a minute."

The children raced up the staircase as fast as their little legs would carry them, leaving the two of them to follow at a more leisurely pace. They took a backseat while they got changed, and then made them smile so that they could check the state of their teeth.

"Perfect," Anna declared. "Give us a kiss."

Jack and Rose took it in turns to reach up to kiss her. Jack waited while Rose clambered into bed. Anna came up to tuck her in tightly, pressing her own kisses to her little cheeks. John followed behind her. Rose yawned, mumbled a sleepy goodnight, rolled onto her side, and was out like a light. Anna giggled, pressing one last kiss to her dark hair before standing up.

"I shouldn't think you'll be too long before you're asleep, either," she said to Jack. "You've had an even more tiring day than she has, helping me the way that you have. Come on, let's get you to your room now."

They took him down the hall to his own small room and repeated the process with him. Anna smoothed his hair out of his eyes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Put your head on that pillow and go to sleep," she said. "We'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, son," said John. They moved towards the bedroom door, John stretching out to switch off the light.

"Daddy?"

Both Anna and John paused at the door. Jack hadn't made to lie down yet. He looked so small in his little bed, hair mussed and blue eyes shimmering in the light.

"What is it, chap?" said John.

"Can I ask something?"

"You can ask whatever you want." He glanced across at Anna. "You go ahead, love. I won't be too long. I've got to go back across to the hotel anyway."

"All right," she murmured.

Still, when she stepped out of the door, she couldn't help lingering, just for a moment. She wanted to know.

John ventured further back into the room. "Well, son? What's the matter?"

Jack shuffled slightly to the side to make room for his father to settle his weight beside him. He tilted his head back, snuggling into his side when John raised his arm and brought him closer. Anna stepped closer, smiling at the sight the two of them made together, so alike despite the contrast of light and dark hair.

"I have a question about the tea party," he said.

"Yes?"

"Why _do_ you like playing those girly things so much? Mummy says it's because you don't want Rose to think that you don't love her the same, like some daddies prefer to have boys to girls. Is that right?"

"Partially," he said carefully. "I suppose Mummy also explained that I do what I can because I can't play with you the same way that other daddies do with their children?"

"Yes," Jack nodded. "Because of your leg."

"That's right. So I want to spend time with you and Rose in other ways, like with your reading and Rose's tea parties."

"I don't think Mr. Trent would do it if he had babies. I think he thought you was silly."

"Well, I _am_ Mummy's silly beggar," he chuckled. "But I don't see there's any need to be ashamed or embarrassed by it. Mummy and I worked at Downton for all of those years, and we saw many, many dinner parties under that roof. There are plenty of men who endorse them, sitting around the dinner table sharing gossip with everyone else. It's not just ladies who do it, Jack, remember that."

"Did Lord Grantham used to gossip?"

"Lord Grantham was a terrible gossip. I learned many, many things about the other aristocratic families from him."

"I decided, I think it's a good thing you like playing tea parties with Rose. I wouldn't want her to be sad."

Anna felt her heart swell in her chest. Her darling, darling boy. They had absolutely nothing to worry about where he was concerned. He would grow into a fine young man, and if he had a family of his own, he would take care of them with the same reverence that John took care of them all now.

John evidently felt the same overwhelming emotions that she did; when he spoke, his voice shook slightly, and Anna could detect a shimmer of tears. "Oh, son."

"Maybe I will join in next time," Jack determined. "I do like milk and biscuits."

John laughed. "I'm sure Rose would love that. And so would I. And Mummy can join in too, and we can have a proper family tea in our very grand house. How does that sound?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds good, Daddy!"

"Excellent. Well, we'll make sure that we arrange it. Perhaps on Sunday, after church." He leaned in and kissed his son's forehead, then paused. "We've talked a bit about me doing things with Rose, but I hope you know that I love you just as much as I love Rose. Rose was our wish, but you were our miracle, Jack. Our perfect, perfect little miracle. We'd just started to think that perhaps we would never be able to have a family of our own, and then there you were, waiting to brighten our lives. You've brightened every day, my darling."

"Oh." Jack frowned. "Why did Mummy and you think that you wouldn't be able to have me? Were you kissing wrong?"

John chuckled, pushing blond hair from his face. "Having a baby is a little bit more complicated than all that."

"How? Why?"

"It's a conversation for another day. When you're older."

"I'm old now. I'm _five_."

"Well, maybe when you're six. All you need to know is Mummy and I love you so, so much. We'd both do anything for you." He pulled him in close. Anna saw him turn his head so he could breathe in their boy's scent. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

"I know." Jack pulled back slightly. Anna couldn't see his face, but she could well imagine the solemnity in his eyes, the sincerity in his face. "When I grow big, Daddy, I want to be exactly like you."

Tears did blossom then. She could hear the slight waver in John's tone as he said, "That's the best compliment in the world, son."

Anna stole away then, leaving father and son to enjoy their moment in peace.

* * *

Half an hour later, John limped into their bedroom, heaving a sigh of relief as he loosened his tie and removed the starched collar.

"What a day," he said.

"A very successful one."

"True. But I'm glad it's over. That bed has never looked more inviting."

She giggled, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not. It seems you're more interested in sleeping than you are in me."

"You're there," he said lightly, casting her that boyish grin she loved so much. "I'd say that makes the bed ten times more appealing."

She rolled her eyes. "Go and get ready, you silly beggar."

He saluted at her. "Yes, ma'am."

She watched as he gathered his things together, settling back against the pillows. He'd come to her soon. After the things she had witnessed today, she couldn't wait to engulf him in her arms. It was strange, how all these years on she could still be taken by surprise when it came to her feelings for him. It didn't take her breath away every day like it had at the beginning. It was more like a comfort blanket now, a constant security, the safety in the knowledge that she knew she loved him and he loved her. But every now again it hit her anew, and she could hardly fathom the depths of her feelings for him. She hoped that no matter how old they got, that would never change.

John returned fifteen minutes later, in his pyjamas, his hair damp from his washing. He padded over to the bed and slipped in, shuffling closer so he could engulf her in his arms. She went willingly, pushing his hair away from his forehead, moving in so she could catch his mouth in the sweetest, tenderest kiss she could possibly bestow upon her. He practically melted into her, his sigh of contentment making her spine tingle pleasantly. She kissed him like that for a long time, only pulling away when she felt his hand sliding underneath the hem of her nightgown. His cheeks had turned pink, and his eyelids were heavy.

"What was tat for?" he murmured.

"A woman can have a secret from her husband," she said.

"Well, there was certainly a secret in that kiss."

She smiled and kissed him again, this time letting his hand drift further up under her nightgown.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" she whispered, pressing herself further into his touch.

"I like to think so, Mrs. Bates," he growled, his hand finding the place where he wanted it to be and she _needed_ it to be. Her mouth formed a perfect 'oh', her eyes closing of their own accord. "If you give me a little time, I think I will be very much up for it…"

Blindly, she sought out his mouth, for her own benefit for more than his, to keep her sounds at bay as his hand began to move in an achingly familiar rhythm. Neither of them spoke for a very long time after that.

* * *

Happily, John was right when he said that he would be just fine if he had a little time.

Afterwards, lying as closely twined as it was possible to be, Anna kissed him again and silently thanked God for everything they had come through together, culminating in this: a home of their own where they could grow old together, surrounded by the children they had always longed for.

Their house was no great estate like Downton Abbey had been. It would never be filled with finery and servants, would never be bigger than it was. But it was their great house all the same, and Anna knew it would remain that way for the rest of their lives.


End file.
